


the straight boy's guide to gay porn

by bespokenboy



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut, i didn't want to call this a pornstar au but...., it's basically a pornstar au, jeonghan is an angel (the victoria's secret kind), seokmin is in denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:59:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7584337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bespokenboy/pseuds/bespokenboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seokmin signs up for a drawing class for the nude models, and Jeonghan teaches him a thing or two about art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mingyu makes a lot of questionable decisions for someone who seems to have his life together. His two best friends and roommates, Seokmin and Minghao, more or less go along with all of them. Only occasionally do they ever find themselves questioning their own decisions to follow Mingyu. 

 

Signing up for a figure drawing class just for the chance to work with nude models is one of those decisions. 

 

Three weeks into the class, and Seokmin hasn’t seen any more flesh than the oranges, apples, and occasional banana they’ve spent most of their hours in the studio sketching. He and Minghao are dangerously close to failing the class, but Mingyu is just overflowing with previously undiscovered artistic genius. 

 

_ Fuck, _ Seokmin thinks as he forcefully erases an accidental smear from his sketchbook. The friction erodes the thin paper, tearing an angry hole in it.  _ Fuck fuck fuck fuck _ –

 

As an English major, he is usually more coherent in articulating his thoughts. But something about his complete helplessness when it comes to art brings out the angry grunting caveman in Seokmin. 

 

He glances over at Minghao and is relieved to see that he’s having just as much difficulty as Seokmin. Minghao is alternating between frowning and sighing deeply as he also struggles to draw the fruit bowl set out in front of them. Mingyu, of course, is scribbling away at his sketchbook with confident pencil strokes. 

 

Their professor, an overly enthusiastic man who likes to be called by his first name Seungcheol, pauses by the table where the three of them are sitting. 

 

“This is incredible work, Mingyu!” Seungcheol praises, grinning proudly at Mingyu’s hyperrealistic depiction of the fruit bowl. “Have you decided to switch into the art department yet?”

 

Mingyu smiles and says, “I’ll think about it some more.”

 

Seokmin and Minghao both know it would be highly unlikely for Mingyu to abandon his pre-med track to become an art major. Whereas Seokmin and Minghao struggle to find something they are especially good at, Mingyu’s problem is that he’s just too good at too many things.

 

Seungcheol turns his attention towards Seokmin and Minghao’s sketchbooks, and they can see the visible struggle on his face as he works to find something positive to say. 

 

“Keep working at it, boys,” Seungcheol finally says.  

 

“I really don’t think I can handle this class anymore,” Minghao confesses later when they’re grabbing dinner after class. “I think I’m going to drop it before it’s too late. I can’t have an art elective bringing my GPA down.”

 

“Me too,” Seokmin agrees. “Sorry Mingyu. You’re on your own now. But you know Minghao and I will support your decision to become an art major.”

 

“Guys,” Mingyu protests over their laughter. “Didn’t you check the syllabus? Next week, he’s bringing in a model for us to draw in class.”

 

“Will it be a guy or a girl?” Seokmin asks. 

 

“Does it really matter? It’ll be fun either way!”

 

Seokmin isn’t completely convinced. Unlike Mingyu, who is interested in the human anatomy out of a purely scientific curiosity, Seokmin is only interested in the female form. For not so scientific reasons. 

 

“Well, our next class is right before the deadline to drop the course, so I guess it couldn’t hurt,” Minghao decides. 

 

Mingyu looks eagerly to Seokmin for his response. 

 

“Sure,” Seokmin agrees.

  
  
  
  


Seokmin is doubtful of his readiness to make the direct leap from drawing fruits to drawing humans, but Seungcheol seems to have absolute faith in every student in his class. 

 

They’re sitting in a circle, waiting for the model to arrive when Seungcheol receives a phone call. He lets his teaching assistant finish setting up the electric blanket for the model to sit on as he takes the call. 

 

“Sorry kids, it looks like Jeonghan is running a little late,” Seungcheol says apologetically when he returns. “But he’ll be here soon.”

 

_ Jeonghan? _ Mingyu, Seokmin, and Minghao exchange silent glances. They all shake their heads, shrugging. Jeonghan isn’t a name any of them have heard before. Seokmin tries not to feel too disappointed that the model is apparently a guy. 

 

The room fills with quiet chatter after Seungcheol’s announcement. And then it falls into an awed silence when Jeonghan arrives. He ducks his head shyly, and a few wayward strands of dark hair fall into his face. 

 

Whatever Seokmin was expecting, it wasn’t this. Piece by piece, Seokmin takes in Jeonghan’s androgynously beautiful appearance: sleek black hair, long dark eyelashes, the elegant curve of his cheekbones. He wonders for a moment if he heard Seungcheol incorrectly when he referred to the model as “he.”

 

Jeonghan exchanges a few words with Seungcheol with a quiet laugh, and Seokmin registers being faintly surprised by the sound of Jeonghan’s voice. It’s lower than Seokmin expected, and it somehow doesn’t match his delicately pretty features. Jeonghan’s voice is pleasantly smooth, but there’s almost a grainy texture to it when he laughs.

 

_ Like ice cream dropped in sand _ , Seokmin thinks. And then he frowns, making note to think of a better metaphor later.

 

Jeonghan smiles, the curved bow of his lips thinning to reveal a full set of straight teeth, and then he’s saying something that Seokmin can’t decipher over the abrupt roaring in his ears. Seokmin feels something shifting inside of him, and a strange feeling of foreignness overcomes him, like he suddenly doesn’t know who he is. 

 

Seokmin wasn’t prepared for Jeonghan, and he certainly isn’t prepared for Jeonghan to start shedding layers of clothing without any warning. Or maybe he did give a warning and Seokmin just wasn’t paying attention. 

 

He peels off his hoodie first, dropping it by the edge of the blanket. He’s wearing a tank top underneath, and just this—just the sudden reveal of bare arms and shoulders and collarbones—is almost too much for Seokmin. The tank top quickly follows the sweatshirt, and Seokmin is barely breathing by the time Jeonghan is completely shirtless, just stretches and stretches of smooth ivory skin. 

 

Muscles shift subtly in Jeonghan’s back when he bends over to unzip his jeans. It’s then that it hits him—it's absolutely ridiculous for Seokmin to be reacting to Jeonghan like this, like a teenage girl. Jeonghan doesn’t have anything that Seokmin hasn’t seen before.

 

“What if you pop a boner while you’re modeling?” Minghao whispers quietly so that only Seokmin and Mingyu can hear.

 

“Shut up,” Mingyu hisses under his breath. “You’re so gross.”

 

“ _ I’m _ gross?” Minghao scoffs.

 

Completely naked now, Jeonghan sits cross-legged on the blanket and stretches his back. It’s startlingly sensual, the strangely feline way he twists his body. Seokmin is suddenly glad that Jeonghan is the naked one, and not Seokmin. 

 

He makes a concerted effort to keep his eyes away from Jeonghan’s crotch area during the first series of sixty second warm-up poses. Still, Seokmin can’t help but notice peripherally that even Jeonghan’s genitals are prettier than his. 

 

Seungcheol begins taking suggestions for additional short poses, and Seokmin’s hand shoots up immediately.

 

“Can you do something like this?” Seokmin asks, leaping to his feet to demonstrate. He widens his stance and crouches down a little bit, holding his hands in the Kamehameha attack pose from  _ Dragonball Z _ . 

 

“Hey, don’t mess around!” Seungcheol says.

 

“It’s fine, I’ll do it,” Jeonghan says, and he’s laughing, and Seokmin feels a strange pressure in his chest. He stands up and copies Seokmin's pose without a single shred of self-consciousness. 

 

There's nothing vain about the way that Jeonghan is completely comfortable in his own skin. It’s like Jeonghan is objectively aware of his own beauty, the way he’s aware that he has arms and legs. Perhaps that’s what Seokmin finds so compelling about Jeonghan, his effortless confidence. 

 

Seungcheol tells Jeonghan to prepare for a long pose, and Jeonghan sits down on the blanket again. He shifts his body, stretching out his legs and settling into a position comfortable enough to hold for the next thirty minutes.

 

Seokmin is graced with an immaculate view of Jeonghan’s back. He can see the entire framework of Jeonghan’s spine, the striking curvature of his shoulder blades. Seokmin's eyes travel further downwards, inch by inch, finally landing on a point of interest just below the round swell of Jeonghan's buttocks. There’s a birthmark shaped like a heart on the back of his left thigh, so artistically placed that it might have been a tattoo. But Seokmin notices that the heart is a little jagged around the edges, too natural and imperfect to be a tattoo. Not that he’s staring at Jeonghan’s ass. 

 

Before he knows it, the first long pose is over, and Seungcheol allows both the artists and the model to take a break for ten minutes. Seokmin stretches out his wrists and jogs in place to relieve his pent-up excess energy, while Jeonghan lays face-down on the blanket, eyes shut, with his arms by his sides and his cheek squished against the floor. The sight of Jeonghan napping quietly on the ground drives the female students crazy. Seungcheol has to physically stop them from taking pictures with their phones. 

 

“I think this class is getting a little too ambitious for me. I think I'll drop too,” Mingyu admits glumly as he looks over the drawings he produced during the first half of class. Apparently, Mingyu’s artistic talent ended at drawing fruit, despite how freakishly good he was at it. 

 

The break ends, and Jeonghan positions himself for another long pose, sixty minutes this time. And this time, Jeonghan situates himself directly in front of Seokmin, facing him head-on. With a coyness in his dark eyes, Jeonghan’s looking at Seokmin in a way that makes him feel as if  _ he’s _ the one naked and exposed. He finds himself shying away from Jeonghan’s straightforward eye contact. 

 

“How are you supposed to draw your model if you’re not even looking at him?” Seungcheol chides when he notices the way that Seokmin is avoiding Jeonghan’s gaze.

 

Seungcheol kneels down next to Seokmin and takes his sketchbook. Confusion and dismay battle over Seungcheol’s expression when he realizes what Seokmin has been working on this entire time.

 

Instead of drawing Jeonghan, Seokmin has been sketching various renditions of his favorite anime character Goku, complete with dazzling energy blasts. It's the only thing Seokmin trusts himself to draw. Seokmin can barely manage fruit bowls, let alone do justice to the exquisite contours of Jeonghan’s body.

 

When Seokmin looks up at Jeonghan, he can see him fighting an amused smile. It fills Seokmin with a kind of confidence he didn’t know that he needed. 

 

After class ends, Seokmin, Mingyu, and Minghao stick around to regretfully inform Seungcheol that they will be dropping his course. Seungcheol looks sorry to see all of them go, even Seokmin. For a moment, Seokmin almost feels bad for abandoning his future art career. 

 

Everyone, even Jeonghan, has left by the time Seungcheol finishes giving them a pep talk full of wisdom about “going on journeys” and “finding answers.” Mingyu and Minghao head towards the cafeteria for dinner, but Seokmin separates from them and leaves in the opposite direction, back towards their apartment. 

 

Refreshingly cool air passes over Seokmin when he steps outside. The entire street is scented with the sweet melancholy smell of the day’s rain. High above Seokmin’s head, the sky is pastel hues of pink and blue like cotton candy, with lavender clouds thinning into wisps. Between the pleasant edgelessness of the evening and the strange new feelings effervescing inside him, Seokmin feels inspired to write. 

 

On his way to the apartment, Seokmin sees ahead of him a bare pair of shoulders hunched over in the cold. Seokmin stops walking, and the figure continues to shrink in the distance. Seokmin breaks into a run.

 

“Jeonghan!” he calls out.  _ Jeonghan’s name tastes like the cotton candy sky _ , Seokmin thinks absently to himself. 

 

Jeonghan pauses and turns back to look at Seokmin bounding towards him. His eyes are widened in surprise, and his arms are folded as if to conserve warmth. 

 

“Oh, you were in that class just now, weren’t you?” Jeonghan says, recognizing Seokmin from his boyish good looks and his garishly yellow sweater. “You were the one messing around.”

 

“That’s me!” Seokmin says proudly. “I’m Seokmin.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Seokmin,” Jeonghan says, hesitantly taking Seokmin’s outstretched hand.

 

Now that he has Jeonghan’s attention, Seokmin realizes that he isn’t exactly sure what he planned to say to him. So he says the first thing that comes to mind.

 

“You look cold!”

 

Seokmin reaches out reflexively to touch Jeonghan’s arm, where his skin is prickly with goosebumps. 

 

“I think someone took my jacket by mistake,” Jeonghan says, rubbing his arms as another chill passes over him. Remembering the girls in the class, he adds as an afterthought, “Or maybe on purpose.”

 

“Here, take mine!”

 

Before Jeonghan has a chance to refuse, Seokmin is already taking off his own sweater and offering it to Jeonghan. He’s smiling at Jeonghan, his eyes almost disappearing completely, and it’s suddenly impossible for Jeonghan to say no.

 

“Wow, it’s so soft,” Jeonghan says when he pulls Seokmin’s surprisingly cozy sweater over his head. Despite the tacky color, it really is a nice sweater.

 

“It’s made out of boyfriend material,” Seokmin replies automatically before he can stop himself. His eyes go wide immediately in horror when he realizes what he just said.

 

Jeonghan covers a snicker with his hand. He can tell that Seokmin just blurts out whatever is on his mind, whenever it happens to be there. 

 

Without missing a beat, Jeonghan says, “Are you offering?”

 

Seokmin tears his gaze away from Jeonghan's flirtatious smile, hoping that the darkness will hide his burning cheeks. 

 

“Do you live nearby?” Seokmin asks, clearly trying to divert the subject. 

 

“Not really. It’s a bit of a walk,” Jeonghan admits.

 

“I’ll walk you home,” Seokmin offers gallantly. 

 

“You don’t have to. It’s cold, you should just go inside.”

 

Seokmin is shivering visibly, but he’s insistent—on walking Jeonghan home, on letting him wear his sweater. Jeonghan finds Seokmin’s stubbornness strangely endearing. 

 

“Fine, walk me home then,” Jeonghan relents. “I know you just want to make sure that I don’t steal your sweater, right?”

 

“Of course,” Seokmin says with a pleased grin. 

 

Seokmin points out his apartment as they pass by the building.

 

“I live with two of my closest friends. Minghao’s cool. He’s a history major. But Mingyu….for someone who’s so obsessed with tidiness, he has some pretty disgusting habits.”

 

Jeonghan laughs generously as Seokmin continues to make jokes at his roommate’s expense.

 

“So, are you a student?” Seokmin asks eventually.

 

Jeonghan shakes his head. “Haven’t been in school for a long time. Studying wasn’t really my thing.”

 

Seokmin nods in understanding. He could relate. He had always struggled with anything that required sitting still and quiet concentration for extensive periods of time. Until he grew into his love for writing, Seokmin was convinced that he would be a basketball player, or a rock star. 

 

“What do you do, then?” Seokmin asks.

 

“Oh, this and that,” Jeonghan answers vaguely. “I play bass guitar sometimes. I do some modeling. Occasionally, I do some acting, too.”

 

“Acting? Like for commercials?”

 

Jeonghan doesn’t reply, and before the silence stretches out for too long, Seokmin asks, “What’s your favorite color?

 

The sudden changes in topic are a little jarring, but Jeonghan just goes along with the flow of the conversation. For some reason, Jeonghan finds Seokmin’s ceaseless questions and childlike curiosity cute, rather than intrusive. 

 

“My favorite color….” Jeonghan says thoughtfully. 

 

It’s a question that Jeonghan had never given much thought to in years. He looks down at Seokmin's yellow sweater. It makes him feel warm and cozy, in the same way that talking to Seokmin makes him feel. 

 

“Yellow,” Jeonghan answers. “What about yours?”

 

Seokmin looks at Jeonghan’s hair, which is so black that every color seems to glisten from it. Jeonghan’s sweet, dark eyes are watching him patiently through thick eyelashes, his gaze drifting down towards Seokmin’s lips. 

 

“Black,” Seokmin says, swallowing a sudden dryness in his throat. 

 

Jeonghan stops walking suddenly and fights to keep the regret out of his tone. “Thanks for walking me all the way home, Seokmin. And thanks for keeping me warm.”

 

He takes off the sweater and hands it to Seokmin, who has a strangely forlorn look on his face for just a fleeting moment. 

 

Seokmin’s handsome features are razor-sharp, but Jeonghan is most fascinated by how malleable they are. Seokmin's sober expression quickly reconstitutes itself into a gummy grin, his eyes crinkling irresistibly. 

 

“No problem!” Seokmin says brightly. “Have a good night, Jeonghan!”

 

By the time it occurs to him that he should have asked for Jeonghan's phone number, it's already too late. Jeonghan had disappeared inside the building long ago, and Seokmin is a couple blocks away already. 

 

As he walks back to his own home, Seokmin replays their conversation in his head, still unable to fully grasp the unreality of it all. 

 

He wonders what the pleasant feeling crawling all over his body is. It might have been the novelty of talking to someone so new and interesting, but at the same time, this feeling is slightly different from that. And yet it's….familiar. It suddenly dawns on Seokmin. Could it be attraction? 

 

Seokmin had never once given a single thought to whether he's into men. It was always out of the question. He lives with two relatively handsome guys, but he's never felt an ounce of attraction towards either of them. He racks his brain, trying to figure out why he might have feelings of this nature towards Jeonghan. It was probably just the hair making him confused. 

 

When he returns to his apartment, Seokmin peruses the internet for gay pornography. Purely for research purposes, of course, just to see if it could elicit any kind of response from Seokmin's body. 

 

Seokmin finds a website and chooses a video at random. It has a bizarrely intricate plotline with way too much dialogue, so he skips ahead to the action. The visuals are certainly eye-opening, but Seokmin finds all the deep grunting and breathy gasps more comical than sexy. It's almost like listening to a fight sequence in an action anime. 

 

And then Seokmin closes his eyes and imagines that the noises are coming from Jeonghan. He recalls, in vivid detail, the bare planes of Jeonghan's body. An illicit thrill rushes through Seokmin, and his hand unconsciously reaches down to relieve the arousal pooling in his groin. 

 

The sudden awareness of his actions throws Seokmin's thoughts into an even greater disarray. He definitely isn't thinking straight when he types into the search bar “ _ long hair gay sex _ .” To his mix of shame, horror, and delight, hundreds of search results appear. 

 

He picks the top result, and it's a completely different kind of video than the one he looked at before. There's thankfully no plot or dialogue this time, and the simple backdrop and ambient music are tastefully done. The video features two actors of about the same height, one with long hair as red as burnt copper, the other with close cropped black hair. The actors’ faces are swathed in shadows as they move against each other under the muted lighting. 

 

The camera focuses on the actors’ bodies rather than their faces, but when it pans to a close-up of their lips before they kiss, Seokmin feels a strange sense of deja vu. The long haired actor has a distinctive mouth that Seokmin is almost certain that he's seen before. An indecipherable feeling grips at Seokmin's stomach when he realizes how much the actor reminds him of Jeonghan. 

 

He's no longer paying attention to the acts being performed. Instead Seokmin is trying to figure out the likelihood that the man on the screen is actually Jeonghan. There's a remote chance, and Seokmin's sudden curiosity drowns out any part of his conscience screaming at him to reconsider what he's doing. 

 

The man that looks like Jeonghan mounts the other actor and starts thrusting into him as the camera films from behind. It gives Seokmin the perfect angle to determine that the actor has the same shoulder to hip ratio as Jeonghan. There's even a shadowy spot on the back of the actor's thigh that corresponds to the same location as Jeonghan's birthmark. 

 

Seokmin pauses the video and starts zooming into the actor's backside. But he's interrupted by Minghao, who enters his room without knocking. 

 

“Jesus Christ!” Seokmin yelps, jumping in his seat and closing his laptop instinctively. 

 

“Oh sorry, I didn't realize you were in the middle of something,” Minghao says, and then he walks out of the room without waiting for an explanation. 

  
  
  
  


Over the next few days, Minghao never mentions the incident, but it’s somehow worse than bringing it up. Seokmin knows that there’s no way Minghao could keep something like that to himself. It makes Seokmin uneasy, thinking about what Minghao and Mingyu could be saying about him when he’s not around. 

 

He finally catches them in the act. When Seokmin leaves for his Sunday afternoon shift as a library assistant, he realizes halfway down the stairwell that he forgot his earbuds on the kitchen counter. He doubles back to the apartment and walks in on Mingyu and Minghao having what sounds like a riveting discussion. 

 

“But the thing about Seokmin is–” Minghao begins to say. He stops mid-sentence when he notices Seokmin standing in the doorway.

 

“What about me?” Seokmin asks.

 

“Nothing, nothing,” Mingyu says. “Don’t worry about it, man.”

 

Seokmin frowns. “I would appreciate it if you guys wouldn’t gossip about me behind my back.”

 

“Alright, we’ll gossip in front of you, then,” Mingyu says. “Minghao tells me that you’re into….what was the title of the video?”

 

“ _ Long hair twink gay sex first time _ ,” Minghao recalls.

 

Apparently Seokmin hadn’t closed his laptop quickly enough to hide what he was looking at. His insides are twisting in guilt and shame, but he tries to conceal his internal turmoil with a grin. 

 

“Hey guys, I can explain,” Seokmin says with a nervous laugh that rings false.

 

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Seokmin,” Mingyu says, and his voice is gentle, deliberate. “We’re not judging you, and we’re not trying to embarrass you. Neither of us were really sure how to bring this up, but….”

 

“We support you no matter what you’re into,” Minghao says. “We were just talking about how bad we felt for trying to set you up with girls after Yuju dumped you. We thought you weren’t ready to date yet, but it didn’t even occur to us that you might be into guys.”

 

Seokmin searches their faces, expecting to see suppressed giggles or any other sign that they’re mocking him. But both Mingyu and Minghao are completely serious. Seokmin can tell that they’re trying to tread carefully. He sees cautiousness in their eyes, he sees pity. 

 

And he  _ is _ pitiful. Seokmin hasn’t been able to look at another girl since Yuju told him over the summer that they should try seeing other people. He’s still holding onto gifts he’s never had a chance to give her, words he’s never had a chance to say. 

 

“You’re right,” Seokmin mutters. His head hangs low, and it’s suddenly too hard to look them in the eye. Words are painful, breathing is difficult. “I’m not ready to date yet.”

 

“We’re sorry,” Mingyu says. “We didn’t realize how much you were still hurting. We just wanted to help you get back into the game, to get your mind off things.”

 

“It’s fine. I understand. Thank you guys for trying to watch out for me,” Seokmin says. Mingyu and Minghao exchange relieved glances. Seokmin continues, “ _ But _ , you were wrong about one thing. I’m not into guys.”


	2. Chapter 2

The wooden chair behind the media desk at the school library feels like home to Seokmin. For most of his shift as a library assistant, he does his homework or he writes as he waits for students to approach him with questions or items to check out. The other library assistant, Wonwoo, is also at the media desk. His job is to organize returned items and to make sure that Seokmin doesn’t doze off while on shift. 

 

Traffic is slow today, so Wonwoo is just reading a book as Seokmin struggles through his calculus homework. Numbers and letters and strange symbols swim in front of his eyes. Seokmin blinks. Is this really something he learned in class? It looks completely foreign to him.

 

He doesn’t even realize that he’s tapping an angry staccato against his thigh until he hears Wonwoo’s voice say, “Please stop that.”

 

“Stop what?” Seokmin asks.

 

“That tapping noise,” Wonwoo says. He looks up at Seokmin with a scrunchy frown, pushing his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

 

“Oh. Sorry,” Seokmin mumbles. 

 

Again, Seokmin’s body begins moving of its own volition as his knuckles knock against the surface of the table to the rhythm of his thinking.

 

“Please don’t.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Knocking against the table. Please stop. It’s annoying.”

 

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

 

Wonwoo barely manages to tolerate Seokmin for the rest of the shift with Seokmin talking himself through his homework and humming under his breath and making all sorts of restless noise. His only respite is when Seokmin gets up to go to the bathroom or leaves to sharpen his pencil. 

 

Seokmin shares his snacks with Wonwoo, which leaves Wonwoo somewhat appeased and Seokmin terribly hungry by the time he leaves the library. He's supposed to meet his roommates for dinner in an hour, but Seokmin can't bring himself to wait that long. He can't even wait until he returns to his refrigerator at home, so he stops by a cafe just off campus for a snack. 

 

It's close to dinner time, so the cafe isn't as crowded as usual. Seokmin notes to himself to come here more often around this time. It makes a nice writing spot, with just the right amount of ambient noise. 

 

There's only one person waiting in line at the cash register. Seokmin recognizes his voice even before he sees his face. 

 

“I really forgot my ID card at home,” Jeonghan is saying to the cashier, a boy wearing a nametag that says  _ Seungkwan _ , “but I promise you that–”

 

“Is everything alright over here?” Seokmin asks, casually putting a protective arm around Jeonghan's shoulder. 

 

Jeonghan turns to look at him in surprise. His hair is stuffed into a snapback, and he's wearing a plaid flannel shirt over a tank top that says “ _ Too hot for heaven, too cool for hell _ .” He looks softer and younger, somehow, without his long hair framing his face. 

 

“Oh, it's you, Seokmin!” Jeonghan says. “I was just telling Seungkwan here that today's my birthday, so I should get a free bagel. They always give you a free bagel with your coffee if it's your birthday.”

 

“I'm sorry, but we’re checking IDs now,” Seungkwan says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. 

 

“You can vouch for me, right?” Jeonghan asks Seokmin. He gives him a wink when Seokmin stares at him for a moment, uncomprehending. “Tell the nice cashier boy that my birthday is today, September 27th.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Seokmin says. He turns to Seungkwan and subtly puffs out his chest, holding himself taller and his back more upright. He smooths over his expression and says sternly, “I can confirm that this man was indeed born on September 27. In fact, I was in the delivery room when it happened–”

 

“Hey!” Jeonghan says, giving Seokmin a light, playful shove. “Don't make up weird stories.”

 

“Jeonghan was a slippery one when he emerged from his mother's womb,” Seokmin continues heedlessly. 

 

“Okay, okay,” Seungkwan says. “I don't want to hear any more. Here, have your free bagel. Your total is $2.18 for the coffee.”

 

“Thank you,” Jeonghan says with a beguiling smile as he hands over a couple of wrinkled ones and a few loose coins. 

 

He waits by the counter as Seokmin places his order. Seokmin decides to buy an iced mocha latte (skim milk, no whipped cream) and an overpriced serving of spinach quiche to balance the sweet with savory. The two items put together cost about as much as a burger with fries, but Seokmin has never been one to take cost-effectiveness into mind when it comes to satisfying his cravings. 

 

“Mind if I sit with you for awhile?” Jeonghan asks. 

 

“Please,” Seokmin says, eagerly offering Jeonghan a seat. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

 

Jeonghan looks at him strangely for a moment before he says, “Thank you.”

 

And then his voice drops lower, and he covers his mouth with his hand as he leans in to Seokmin's ear. 

 

“It's not actually my birthday today.”

 

Seokmin draws away, his eyes big and naive, and he whispers, “When’s your birthday then?”

 

“October 4th,” Jeonghan answers. “But I was hungry and broke.” He sips at his coffee, watching Seokmin as if gauging his reaction. 

 

The first thought that pops into Seokmin’s mind is that October 4th is his ex-girlfriend Yuju’s birthday too. 

 

He had bought her a birthday present months and months ago. On one of their window shopping dates, she had seen a scarf that she liked: pale blue and made from airy, lightweight linen. It was pretty, she said, but not worth the price. The next day, Seokmin secretly returned to the store to buy the scarf for her. 

 

Seokmin still has the scarf. It's been sitting in his closet for months, nestled in translucent white tissue paper in a pretty paper bag. Seokmin could never bring himself to return it. He knows that it’s ridiculous, but letting go of the scarf would mean letting go of any chance they could still be together. 

 

It's too late now. Yuju had made it clear that she just wanted to be friends. Giving the scarf to her for her birthday would just give her the wrong idea. The last thing Seokmin wants is to make Yuju uncomfortable or upset. 

 

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asks, breaking Seokmin's chain of thought. “You went quiet all of a sudden.”

 

Seokmin notes with surprise that Jeonghan's forehead is knit with concern. 

 

“I was just thinking about how your bagel might taste,” Seokmin says. He's relieved to see Jeonghan's expression relax, smooth and placid once again. 

 

“If you were coveting my food, you could have just asked! Here.”

 

Jeonghan leans across the table to offer his bagel to Seokmin. The tip of Jeonghan’s thumb brushes against Seokmin’s lip as he takes a bite, an inadvertent touch that makes Seokmin’s stomach flip. 

 

“Mmmm, delicious,” Seokmin says around a mouthful of bagel. “Thank you.”

 

“I would give you more,” Jeonghan says regretfully, “but this is kind of my dinner.”

 

Seokmin suddenly feels bad for mooching from Jeonghan. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize that. I wish I still had some quiche left to give you.”

 

“No, no, don’t worry! It’s always a little tricky near the end of the month,” Jeonghan confesses. “But my next paycheck should be coming soon. When it does come, I want to treat you to dinner.”

 

“Why?” Seokmin blurts out before it occurs to him that it's not what he's supposed to say when someone invites him to dinner.

 

“As a thank you, since you’ve helped out a couple of times now. And also for an excuse to ask for your phone number.”

 

There's a natural lilt to Jeonghan's voice that makes everything he says sound like he’s teasing Seokmin. His smile is coy and provocative in a way that Seokmin’s brain doesn’t know how to make sense of. 

 

And then Jeonghan is saying something else, but his lips are too much of a distraction. Seokmin's mind is blank with a static buzz that drowns out Jeonghan's words as his pretty mouth keeps moving. 

 

Images drift up to the surface of Seokmin's consciousness: memories of Jeonghan naked and sprawled out on a blanket, flashes of the video with the actor that looked uncannily like Jeonghan. Seokmin feels his face growing hot, and he pushes his thoughts out of his awareness. 

 

“Hello? Seokmin?” Jeonghan says when Seokmin doesn't answer. “Are you alright? If you don't want to give me your phone number, just tell me, I won't be offended.”

 

“Sorry,” Seokmin says quickly. “I was just zoning out. Of course I don't mind.”

 

He enters his phone number into Jeonghan's phone and excuses himself with a terse goodbye. He’s certain, when he glances back and sees Jeonghan watching him leave with a puzzled expression, that Jeonghan won’t call him or try to talk to him again. 

 

It’s a miracle when Seokmin receives a text message the next day from a number that can only be Jeonghan’s.

 

_ hey are you up for dinner next tuesday? O:-) _

 

Seokmin types back a response with embarrassing expediency. 

 

_ Sure! _ And then he adds,  _ What’s with the emoji? _

 

_ it’s my halo O:-) _ is the immediate reply. 

 

And then Jeonghan messages him with a time and location. Seokmin sends a confirmation and a thank you, and then he just stares at the message for a minute, letting the surrealness of it all sink in. 

 

He’s going on a date with Jeonghan. Seokmin frowns, wondering if “date” is even the right word for it. Perhaps he should call it a “bro date” or “bonding,” but he decides against it since both terms reek of masculine insecurity. Either way,  _ he’s going on a date with Jeonghan _ .

 

Seokmin pleads with himself not to mess things up this time.

  
  
  
  


It’s the night before Seokmin is supposed to meet Jeonghan for dinner. It’s already past midnight, but sleep is still a distant and faraway thing. Seokmin has been tossing and turning under his covers so much that his sheets and pillows are uncomfortably warm. He gives up and gets out of bed, returning to his desk.

 

The screen of his laptop casts a bluish glow on his skin. Seokmin is certain that nobody will walk in on him this time, so he returns to the website where he found the Jeonghan lookalike. 

 

Seokmin never got into the habit of using incognito tabs or clearing his browsing history, so the home page of the porn website is tiled with thumbnails of suggested clips based on his previously viewed videos. Most of them feature long haired actors.

 

He clicks on the first video, indifferent at this point about the moral consequences of gay porn, especially gay porn that reminds him of Jeonghan. He’s just looking for a quick release that will relax his body, at least, and help him fall asleep. 

 

It’s a relatively recent video that was posted only in the last few days. Seokmin’s body coils tight with tension when a wide shot reveals the bodies—and hairstyles—of the actors. One of the actors is broad-shouldered with a muscular chest (Seokmin imagines Mingyu saying “ _ bara tiddy _ ”), while the other is more lithe in build, with sleek black hair that reaches the base of his neck. 

 

His hairstyle looks exactly like Jeonghan’s current one, not a millimeter longer or shorter. Seokmin recalls Jeonghan mentioning that he was waiting for a paycheck that was supposed to be arriving soon. Given the date of the video, it wouldn’t be a long shot to guess that the video and the paycheck are related. Especially if Jeonghan really is the actor in the video. 

 

Which, Seokmin quickly decides, he has to be. The texture of the man’s voice when he moans, the graceful arc of his back, the stretches of ivory skin marred only by a tiny indistinct smudge on the back of his thigh—it couldn’t be anyone else. Seokmin is certain of that now.

 

He’s too far gone to care that it’s  _ Jeonghan _ he’s watching as he reaches under the waistband of his boxers to touch himself. The pleasant heat curling around his entire body is wilting any vestigial guilt that’s still lingering in the periphery of his conscience. The sound of Jeonghan’s ragged breathing as the other man goes down on him blends into Seokmin’s own pressured gasps. 

 

On the video, Jeonghan bites his lip as the other man lowers himself onto his lap and then starts rocking his hips, riding him. Seokmin bites his own lip so hard it goes numb at the sight of Jeonghan tossing his head back and letting out a breathless laugh in ecstasy. And then Jeonghan’s eyes go dark, and his hands are on the other man’s hips, controlling his movements, urging him to go faster.

 

Before he’s aware of what’s happening it hits him—a tremor rolls up Seokmin’s body, and he’s breathing hard. His palm is covered in a warm slickness that he ducks into the bathroom to rinse off, hoping that some of his guilt will wash down the sink too. 

  
  
  
  


“Oh? What’s this?” Jeonghan asks when Seokmin meets him outside of a burger joint. Seokmin’s carrying a gift bag in one hand, and his other hand is stuffed bashfully in the pocket of his jeans. Jeonghan teases, “Did you bring me a birthday present or something?”

 

“Yeah,” Seokmin says shyly. “October 4th, right?”

 

“You remembered,” Jeonghan says, clearly surprised. “You didn’t have to–”

 

“Happy birthday,” Seokmin says. He pushes the gift bag into Jeonghan’s arms.

 

Jeonghan opens the present while they’re waiting for their orders to arrive.

 

“Wow, it’s so pretty,” Jeonghan marvels as he looks at the airy blue linen scarf in the bag. It doesn’t match the leather motorcycle jacket he’s wearing, but he puts it on anyways. “Thank you, Seokmin. This was so thoughtful of you. I really wasn’t expecting you to get me a present.”

 

Seokmin fidgets with the hems of his sleeves and then admits, “It was actually supposed to be a present for my ex. But then she dumped me. Sorry, I know I’m terrible….”

 

His head is hung low with guilt, but then he looks up when he hears that Jeonghan is  _ laughing _ . 

 

“Do I look like someone with morals?” Jeonghan cackles. “Anyways, it’s her loss. It’s a pretty scarf, and now it belongs to someone who can actually appreciate it….and you.”

 

A flush of heat spreads slowly through his body, and Seokmin feels more relaxed than he has in days as he chats aimlessly with Jeonghan. Despite Jeonghan’s languid first impression, Seokmin finds that Jeonghan can actually be quite animated when he’s telling a story. Seokmin is enchanted by Jeonghan’s utterly unselfconscious way of expressing himself, through his words, his face, his hands. Seokmin doesn’t stop smiling or laughing throughout their entire meal. 

 

Their waiter returns, a boy named Chan who looks like he’s itching for the end of his shift. He asks, “Are either of you interested in dessert?”

 

Seokmin takes a dessert menu from the table caddy, and Jeonghan asks, “Excuse me, Chan, the desserts here are still buy one get half off for couples, right?”

 

“Yes,” Chan says with a puzzled frown, looking at Jeonghan and then at Seokmin. “Are you two….?”

 

“My boyfriend and I would like to use the couple’s discount for dessert then,” Jeonghan says.

 

Seokmin looks at Jeonghan with surprise written all over his face, and Jeonghan kicks him in the shin under the table.

 

“Ah, um, yes,” Seokmin says, clearing his throat lightly. “What would you like, babe?”

 

The term of endearment feels strange on his tongue, but not in an unpleasant way. 

 

Jeonghan takes the dessert menu from Seokmin, letting his fingers brush generously against Seokmin’s. “I think I’ll have a milkshake,” he decides. “What about you, darling?”

 

“I’ll have one too, pookums.”

 

“What flavors?” Chan asks, clearly bewildered by their sudden displays of affection. 

 

“Chocolate,” Jeonghan says.

 

“Vanilla for me, please,” Seokmin tells him. 

 

Chan jots down their orders and leaves with one last doubtful glance over his shoulder. 

 

“Please don’t ever call me pookums again,” Jeonghan hisses under his breath when he’s sure that Chan is out of earshot.

 

“This was your idea,” Seokmin giggles, knowing exactly what he’s going to set Jeonghan’s caller ID to in his phone. “Did you take me here just for the discount?”

 

“Perhaps,” Jeonghan says offhandedly. “I don’t think we convinced the waiter though.”

 

“Well, you should have told me that we were going to do this earlier on. So I could be prepared.” 

 

“I don’t think it’s too late to try to convince him,” Jeonghan says, and there’s almost a taunt in his voice. He raises an eyebrow, a challenge. 

 

Seokmin swallows his fear and lets himself be strung along. He reaches across the table to hold Jeonghan’s hand, wondering if Jeonghan can feel his pulse skipping in his fingertips. Jeonghan’s lips curl in a pleased grin. 

 

Chan returns with two tall glasses brimming with cool, creamy liquid topped with whipped cream and bright red maraschino cherries. 

 

Halfway through his own milkshake, Seokmin looks enviously at Jeonghan’s. “I wish I got chocolate,” Seokmin says. 

 

Jeonghan asks, “If you got chocolate and I got vanilla, wouldn’t you say the same thing?”

 

“Maybe,” Seokmin admits with a sheepish grin. 

 

Jeonghan laughs indulgently and says, “You can have a taste of my milkshake, then.”

 

Seokmin’s eyes light up, and he leans across the table. But instead of offering Seokmin his dessert, Jeonghan brings his mouth to Seokmin’s lips. Seokmin makes a soft, shocked sound when he feels Jeonghan’s tongue seeking entrance into his mouth, and then he goes pliant, letting Jeonghan deepen their kiss. 

 

Seokmin’s body is quivering with sensory overload—the cold sweetness of chocolate ice cream, the warmth of Jeonghan’s tongue. It’s a lewd kiss that doesn’t belong in the family restaurant, more forbidden and thrilling than what Seokmin could ever experience with a girl, and it ends far too quickly. 

 

Jeonghan pulls away, panting slightly. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and asks, “Have you ever kissed a guy before?”

 

“Now I have,” Seokmin says in a voice that’s remarkably steady considering that his hands are trembling.

 

Jeonghan grins and murmurs, “Well I hope you don’t mind if I take your other cherry, too.”

 

Seokmin stares at him, his whole body going hot and then cold, before he realizes what Jeonghan means. Jeonghan is reaching into Seokmin’s milkshake glass to pluck his maraschino cherry out of the blob of whipped cream floating at the top of the drink. He pops the cherry into his mouth, pulling out the stem from between his teeth. 

 

The whole affair is far more provocative than it should be. 

 

Chan brings the check to the table, and Jeonghan notices with delight that the couple’s discount has been applied.

 

“I think we convinced him,” Jeonghan says when they’re standing outside the restaurant, about to part ways. “I hope we can go on another date soon?”

 

Seokmin isn’t sure if he’s using the word  _ date _ in jest, making a joke out of their shared mischief. 

 

“Sure,” Seokmin agrees. “I’d be happy to come any time you need someone for a couple’s discount.”

 

Jeonghan’s smile falters for just a moment, and something in Seokmin’s heart twists at the sight of it. Seokmin realizes that he must have read him wrong, and for a moment wants nothing more than to retrace his words and say something different, something that would make that awful strange expression disappear. But the moment closes, and Jeonghan’s face composes itself again. 

 

“See you later,” Jeonghan says, and then he’s walking away, tossing one last smile over his shoulder before fading into the shadows beyond the street lamps. 

  
  
  
  


Jeonghan is wearing the blue scarf the next time Seokmin sees him when they meet at a rollerskating rink on the outskirts of town. Seokmin had invited him with the ruse of a couple’s voucher for an admission discount. Jeonghan accepted it without even mentioning that he had never once in his life worn a pair of rollerskates. 

 

“You go on without me,” Jeonghan pants as he inches along on wobbly feet, clinging to the walls of the arena.

 

“Are you sure?” Seokmin asks, and Jeonghan nods shakily.

 

“Don’t let me keep you from having fun.”

 

“Well, if you insist.”

 

Seokmin accelerates ahead on his rollerblades, lapping Jeonghan several times by the time Jeonghan makes it once around. Seokmin slows to a halt when he notices Jeonghan resting by himself on a bench outside the skating rink. 

 

“This was a bad idea, wasn’t it,” Seokmin says, sitting down next to Jeonghan.

 

“No, of course not! If you’re having fun, then it’s still a good idea. I’m just not into….most physical activities.”

 

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

 

“You can go back to skating if you want! I’ll just watch.”

 

“What’s the point of a date if we’re not doing things together?” Seokmin says. It’s a surprise to himself, how easily the words come out. “Try to catch your breath, and whenever you’re ready, we can go back together.”

 

“Alright,” Jeonghan says with a happy sigh, allowing himself the indulgence of resting his head on Seokmin’s shoulder. 

 

Automatically, Seokmin’s hand moves to Jeonghan’s head to pet his hair. For a few minutes, neither of them say a word as they sit in a comfortable silence.

 

And then Jeonghan gathers the courage and the strength to return to the skating rink. Seokmin guides him carefully with one hand holding onto Jeonghan’s hand and the other one with a firm grip on Jeonghan’s waist. Seokmin follows Jeonghan patiently, catching him when he’s about to fall. 

 

They make steady progress around the circumference of the skating rink, until Seokmin trips and takes Jeonghan down with him. 

 

Jeonghan is laughing, and Seokmin is indignant as they lay in a tangled heap on the wooden floor. 

 

“You tripped me!” Seokmin whines.

 

“How could you possibly accuse me of such a thing?” Jeonghan says. “I could never hurt a fly.”

 

For a few long moments, neither of them have the momentum to stand back up again, and they just lay there on the ground, faces inches apart.

 

Seokmin once read somewhere that there are two things in the world people can never get tired of looking at: water and fire. Seokmin thinks that Jeonghan should be added to that list. 

 

Jeonghan is looking at him too, his gaze traveling in a triangle as his vision focuses on Seokmin’s left eye, then his right eye, down to his mouth, and up to his eyes again. And then Jeonghan’s eyes close, and Seokmin wonders if now is the chance to quench the burning desire to steal another kiss.

 

Seokmin closes his eyes too, but then he opens them again when he feels his body being grabbed and yanked out of the way. They narrowly avoid being trampled by a horde of young children zooming by on rollerskates.

 

“That was close,” Seokmin says breathlessly.

 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan agrees, and he slowly relinquishes his tight grip on Seokmin’s shirt, leaving wrinkles where he held onto fistfuls of fabric. 

  
  
  
  


Seokmin realizes over the next few weeks just how  _ fun _ it is to go on dates, even if they’re pretend dates for the sake of wasting time and not money. Even if they’re not in a real romantic relationship, Seokmin likes spending his afternoons and evenings aimlessly in Jeonghan’s company. 

 

His friends are suspicious when they notice his increasingly frequent absence from their apartment. One afternoon, Minghao and Mingyu physically make Seokmin sit down and play League of Legends with them because it had been so long since the three of them last bonded together. Seokmin only agrees because he hadn’t scheduled a date with Jeonghan that day. 

 

An hour or so into their gaming session, Seokmin’s phone lights up with a text alert. He glances at the name on the screen.  _ Pookums _ . He pauses his incessant clicking to unlock his phone and read the message from Jeonghan.

 

“Hey, pay attention to the game!” Mingyu chides him without tearing his eyes away from his own laptop screen. “Our team’s gonna kick you out.”

 

_ please come over _ , the text message reads.

 

Before Seokmin has the chance to reply, Jeonghan sends another text message that says,  _ help _ .

 

“Sorry guys,” Seokmin says apologetically, closing his laptop screen. “I really gotta go.”

 

Minghao spares enough attention away from the game to frown at Seokmin. “Whoever that is, they’ve got you whipped,” he says.

 

Seokmin can’t disagree. 

The door is unlocked when Seokmin arrives at Jeonghan’s townhouse. He’s familiar enough by now to just walk in without knocking. Noise from the television drifts down the hallway as Seokmin approaches the living room. It sounds suspiciously like Spongebob Squarepants. 

 

“Jeonghan? Is everything alright?” Seokmin calls out. He stops when he finds Jeonghan sprawled lazily on the sofa, watching Spongebob. 

 

Jeonghan’s sleepy eyes light up when he sees Seokmin. “You’re finally here! There’s a fly in the living room, can you kill it for me?”

 

Seokmin stares at him in disbelief for a moment. “You called me over here….to kill a fly for you?”

 

Jeonghan nods like it should have been obvious. “The fly swatter is in the kitchen.”

 

“When you said that you could never harm a fly, you should have specified that it was because you were too lazy to,” Seokmin groans. 

 

But he caves and kills the fly for Jeonghan with lots of exaggerated grunts and yelps, to Jeonghan’s amusement. And then he flops onto the sofa, fitting himself next to Jeonghan and rearranging his position until his head is in Jeonghan’s lap. Jeonghan cards his fingers through Seokmin’s hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world as he laughs throatily at the cartoon antics on the television screen. 

  
Seokmin realizes then that love isn’t always like being struck by lightning. Sometimes it’s like sinking into a warm bath, the water level rising so imperceptibly that you don’t realize you’re drowning until it’s too late. 


	3. Chapter 3

The first wave of midterms washes over Seokmin like an ocean tide. He just barely manages to avoid drowning. Seokmin and Minghao celebrate the end of their midterms by playing Mario Kart in the living room, much to Mingyu’s irritation.

“Will you guys please keep it down?” Mingyu asks irritably, poking his head out of his bedroom for the first time in hours. “I’m trying to study.”

“Why are you still studying?” Seokmin asks. He leans hard to the left to avoid crashing into an obstacle on screen. “It’s Friday, why don’t you relax a little?”

“I still have a midterm exam next week. And the week after that. And basically every week until finals.”

“So what, you’re not going to let yourself have fun for the rest of the semester?”

Mingyu sighs and shuts his bedroom door. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Minghao says. “He’s just tense right now because physics is kicking his butt. After he works at it a little longer, he’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” Seokmin says, casting a worried glance at Mingyu’s door. It isn’t like him to let his frustration show. “He’s not planning to stay in there  _ all _ weekend, is he?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he sees some sunlight,” Minghao says. “By the way, I just found out about this couple’s bowling tournament that’s happening tomorrow. The prizes are awesome, they’re giving out gift cards to the top five couples, and an iPad to the first place team.”

“Just one iPad?” Seokmin asks. He feels a strange sense of deja vu, like he knows what Minghao is about to ask next. “Let me guess, you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend so we can enter the tournament as a couple?”

“Of course not,” Minghao says, looking appalled. “I’m going to enter the tournament with Mingyu. I’m just telling you in case you want to find someone to enter with you, too.”

Seokmin tries not to feel offended. 

“I’ll see if I can find anyone,” Seokmin says, wondering if Jeonghan will like the idea of bowling. 

  
  
  
  


Jeonghan does not like the idea of bowling at all. In fact, he never wants to do anything remotely physical the day after filming a scene. But it’s been an entire week since they’ve met up, with Seokmin busy taking exams and Jeonghan busy with more sordid business. As much as it surprises him to admit it, he misses Seokmin.

_ okay _ , Jeonghan replies when he receives Seokmin’s text the morning of the bowling tournament.

His text message is less-than-enthusiastic, but Seokmin responds with an eager, immediate,  _ Great! See you soon! _

Jeonghan stretches out on his bed, feeling a pleasant soreness in his muscles. He had starred in a video of the adult variety the day before, a scene that had him switching up his usual role. 

It was easier, in some ways, to be on the receiving end. It was less effort on his part, but it strained his body in ways it wasn’t accustomed to. Standing up and moving around will be a struggle, he knows this already.

Jeonghan stays in bed for as long as feasible, rising only when it’s almost time for Seokmin to pick him up. He dresses in a light denim jacket over a white t-shirt with the words “I Have Given Up” printed on the front. As a final touch, Jeonghan tosses the airy blue scarf that Seokmin gave him for his birthday around his neck.

It may not mesh with the rest of his wardrobe, and it may not have even been a gift initially meant for him, but Jeonghan treasures the scarf more than any other garment in his closet. Its softness and scent reminds him of Seokmin every time he puts it on. 

There’s a knock on the door that tells Jeonghan that Seokmin has arrived. Anyone else would have stayed in their car and texted Jeonghan to come out, but Seokmin always waits patiently on the doorstep, even if Jeonghan is in the middle of getting ready. It’s another thing that fascinates Jeonghan, Seokmin’s old-fashioned manners. Jeonghan can tell that Seokmin’s parents raised him well.

A wide grin spreads across Seokmin’s face when he sees Jeonghan.

“Hey! I missed you!” he says with a kind of straightforward honesty that hurts Jeonghan’s heart.

There are people in Seokmin’s car when Jeonghan climbs into the back seat. A tall boy Seokmin introduces as Mingyu sits shotgun while a boy named Minghao sits in the back with Jeonghan. 

“Hello, I'm Jeonghan,” he greets them politely. “Nice to meet you guys.”

They stare openly at him in shock, and Jeonghan realizes that despite how much Seokmin has told Jeonghan about his roommates, he probably hasn’t told them about him.

“Aren’t you the guy….” Minghao begins to say.

“From the drawing class?” Mingyu finishes. 

They’re both looking at him like he’s something impossible and exotic, like a unicorn. 

“That's me,” Jeonghan answers lightly. 

“But….how?” Mingyu says incredulously, and they're both staring at Seokmin now. 

Jeonghan stays quiet, letting Seokmin answer this one. From the sound of it, Seokmin has been keeping their relationship a secret. Whatever their relationship is. 

“We ran into each other a few times,” Seokmin answers vaguely, but offers no further explanation. 

Jeonghan ignores the strange, disappointed feeling in his stomach. He reminds himself that having expectations is the quickest way to get hurt.

Seokmin changes the topic, but Jeonghan catches Mingyu and Minghao sneaking curious glances at him. It’s understandable that they would have a lot to wonder about. 

Eventually, the car goes quiet when Seokmin runs out of desultory remarks, and Jeonghan can feel Minghao and Mingyu’s attention drifting back towards him.

“So, um, you do a lot nude modeling?” Mingyu asks. 

“Now and then, yeah,” Jeonghan says. 

“Cool. What’s it like?”

Jeonghan frowns a little. “Cold, sometimes. Boring. Makes my body sore, having to hold a position for so long.”

“Oh, I see,” Mingyu says. “That sucks. Does it pay well?”

“Not really,” Jeonghan admits.

“Hey, Jeonghan,” Minghao says, inserting himself into the conversation. “When you’re modeling, have you ever, you know….”

“Minghao,” Seokmin says sharply, looking away from the road for a moment to glare at him in the rearview mirror. 

“Hmmm?” Jeonghan murmurs, his eyebrows arching in interest. 

“Nevermind,” Minghao says quickly, sensing the danger emanating from Seokmin. 

Mingyu intercedes,“I think what he's trying to say is, has your….Jeonghanaconda ever gotten excited when you're modeling?”

“ _ Mingyu _ !” Seokmin scolds. Glancing at Jeonghan in the mirror, Seokmin apologizes, “I am so sorry about my shitty friends.”

But Jeonghan is laughing, his mouth stretching into a giant, delighted circle. “Jeonghanaconda?! I've never heard that one before. But, no, it's never happened to me.”

“What if it did though?” Minghao asks with genuine curiosity. 

“I don't think I'd be invited to model again.”

“Enough with the prurient questions!” Seokmin bursts out. 

“Sorry, I don't know what that word means,” Mingyu says flippantly. 

Seokmin pulls into the parking lot of the bowling alley before his friends do any more damage with their lewd, invasive questions. He’s just glad they don’t seem to be aware that Jeonghan makes a living as an adult film star.

A long line of couples winds through the lobby of the bowling alley, which smells like a sentimental cocktail of old rental shoes, greasy pizza, and lane polish. As far as Jeonghan can tell, they're the only pair of same-sex couples. 

At the end of the line there's a photographer taking Polaroids of each team, a cheerful employee with a nametag that says  _ Jisoo _ . If Jisoo is startled by the sight of Jeonghan and Seokmin as a couple, he tries not to let it show. 

“Okay guys, please stand in front of the the backdrop, right  _ there _ , and smile—three, two,  _ one _ -derful!” Jisoo says, snapping a photo with the last word. 

He shakes the Polaroid and hands it to Jeonghan, telling him, “There's a table over there where you can write the name of your team onto the photo and stick it onto our collage.”

Jisoo points to a section of the wall covered with photos of smiling couples. As they approach, Seokmin notices handwriting in the bottom white margins of every photo. Some have simple, straightforward couples names with their names mashed together like  _ Jundae _ , while some have more convoluted titles like  _ Bacon and Eggyeolk _ . 

“What should our couple name be?” Seokmin asks. “Seokhan?”

Jeonghan ponders for a second and then decides, “Angel and Baby Demon.”

“Are you calling me an angel?” Seokmin laughs.

“No, I’m the angel. You’re the baby demon.”

“Why am I a demon? A  _ baby _ demon?”

Jeonghan offers no further explanation, and Seokmin just accepts it good-naturedly. 

He looks at the other photos on display while Mingyu and Minghao bicker about whether they should call themselves  _ Gyuhao _ or  _ Haogyu _ . 

“I don’t like Gyuhao. Why does your name get to go first?” Minghao says. “Haogyu is better.”

“Haogyu sounds stupid,” Mingyu says. “We should just stick to Gyuhao.”

“Why don’t you call yourselves something like,  _ Hao do you Gyu? _ ” Seokmin suggests. “It kinda sounds like  _ How do you do? _ ”

“Please don’t,” Minghao says, and Seokmin pouts a little. 

“How about we do the normal thing and take the first half of your name and the second half of my name?” Mingyu asks.

“Mingyu, that would literally just be  _ Mingyu _ ,” Minghao points out, rolling his eyes like he’s reached the limit of his patience.

“Why don’t we combine our last names, Xu and Kim?”

“Mingyu,  _ how? _ ”

“Xkium?”

“What the fuck, Mingyu. How do you even say that?”

“I don’t know,” Mingyu admits.

Jeonghan finishes writing  _ Angel and Baby Demon _ on their photo, and he tapes it on the wall next to the other photos of happy couples. With their arms around each other in the photo, Seokmin and Jeonghan look like any other playful, affectionate couple. For a fleeting moment, Jeonghan allows himself the luxury of imagining that they’re just like any of the other couples hanging on the wall.  

“Look!” he says proudly, tapping Seokmin on the shoulder to get his attention. But Seokmin is staring at a Polaroid photo of a handsome young man and his girlfriend, labeled  _ Jaehyun & Yuju _ . 

“Do you know them?” Jeonghan asks, following Seokmin’s line of sight. 

Seokmin startles slightly at Jeonghan’s question, like he’s been caught in a daze. “What? Oh, um, yeah. They both go to my school. I’ve never talked to the guy, though,” Seokmin explains.

He looks at the photo that Jeonghan stuck to the wall and says, “Hey, not bad! We look good! I wish I opened my eyes a little more, though.”

“You look perfect,” Jeonghan says, and he’s thinking about how much he loves the way that Seokmin’s eyes almost disappear when he smiles. 

Seokmin brought his own bowling shoes, but Jeonghan rents a pair. They find an open lane, and they’re soon joined by Minghao and Mingyu, who have finally settled on the team name  _ 2ming _ . 

“I’m going to be honest with you,” Seokmin says, “I’m not gonna be at the top of my game today. My wrists are sore from all the typing I’ve done this past week.”

“My body’s sore too,” Jeonghan says without thinking.

Seokmin looks at him curiously. “I didn’t know that you worked out.”

Quickly realizing his mistake, Jeonghan says, “I’m sore from laying in bed all day, I mean. It’s all bedsores.”

“That’s alright, I honestly just came for the free food,” Seokmin admits. “I think Mingyu and Minghao are playing to win, though.”

As the tournament begins, Jeonghan and Seokmin devise bowling methods that require the least amount of effort possible. Seokmin opts for using two hands, slinging the ball from between his legs. Jeonghan also tries that a few times before giving up and letting Seokmin take his turns for him.  

Mingyu and Minghao make it to the next round, but Seokmin and Jeonghan do not.

“They’re like a couple of elementary school kids who take dodgeball way too seriously,” Seokmin comments from the sidelines as they gorge on free pizza. 

Seokmin finishes his own slice and then looks longingly at the uneaten pizza on Jeonghan’s plate.

“No, I’m not going to eat it,” Jeonghan says before Seokmin has the chance to ask. “Go ahead.”

Seokmin smiles sheepishly at Jeonghan before swiping the food from his plate.

Jeonghan excuses himself to throw away his greasy paper plate and to wash his hands. When he returns, there's a young man and a girl standing in front of Seokmin. Jeonghan recognizes them as the couple from the photograph. Jaehyun and Yuju, if he remembers correctly. 

He's too far away to hear what they're saying, but Jeonghan notices that Seokmin is blushing deeply as he talks to the couple. Seokmin laughs and then hides a bashful smile behind his hands, shyness radiating from him. A strange, hot feeling rises in Jeonghan at the sight of Seokmin so flustered. 

Jeonghan wanders outside for some fresh air to cool his burning skin. 

“Hello, can I help you?” a polite voice asks. 

It's Jisoo, the employee from before. He's a conventionally attractive man with a gentle voice and sweet eyes. Jeonghan notes impassively that if he wasn't already on a date, he would have probably managed to find a way into Jisoo’s pants. 

“Are you looking for something?” Jisoo inquires when Jeonghan doesn’t answer the first time.  

“Just my will to live,” Jeonghan grumbles. 

Jeonghan returns and lingers by the food court when he sees that Seokmin is still talking to the couple. Minghao walks by, and Jeonghan reaches out to catch Minghao by the sleeve. 

“Hey Minghao, do you know who those kids talking to Seokmin are?” Jeonghan asks. 

Minghao casts his gaze over to where Jeonghan is pointing, and his eyebrows lift in surprise. 

“I don't know the guy personally, but the girl is Seokmin's ex,” Minghao explains. 

“I see. Thank you, Minghao.”

“No problem. By the way, Mingyu and I might leave soon. I don't think we're going to make it to the next round, and Mingyu's getting nervous about wasting time before his physics final.”

“Seokmin told me about how hard Mingyu's been working,” Jeonghan says kindly. “I don't think it's a bad idea for him to take some time off from studying.”

“Yes, exactly! Thank you. I'm going to tell Mingyu that you agree with me so he doesn't drive himself crazy trying to cram.”

Jeonghan watches fondly as Minghao returns to where Mingyu appears to be sulking. He doesn't notice Seokmin sneaking up on him until Seokmin is hugging Jeonghan from behind, lifting him up in the process. 

“Put me down!” Jeonghan squawks when he feels his heels leave the ground. 

Seokmin lowers him gently, and he's grinning from ear to ear when Jeonghan turns around to look at him. 

“You're in a good mood,” Jeonghan says. His voice sounds tight to his own ears. “Who were you talking to just now?”

In his excitement, Seokmin doesn't seem to notice the strangeness in Jeonghan's tone. 

“I just met someone I admire very much,” Seokmin explains excitedly. 

“Oh?” Jeonghan says, trying to keep his voice disinterested and remote.

“His name is Jaehyun! We're in the same major, but I've never spoken to him before. I've always wanted to tell him how much I admire his poetry and to congratulate him for getting published in the school's literary magazine.”

“Why didn't you before?” Jeonghan asks, genuinely bewildered by Seokmin's apparent shyness around Jaehyun. It doesn't seem to map out with what Jeonghan already knows about Seokmin. 

“I’m kind of intimidated by him,” Seokmin confesses. “He's so talented and he looks so serious all the time, and he's so  _ handsome _ , I just don't know how to approach him.”

Jeonghan's eyebrow twitches in interest at Seokmin's comment on Jaehyun’s good looks. Seokmin must be even more clueless about his own sexual preference than Jeonghan initially thought. 

“Thankfully Yuju introduced us today,” Seokmin continues. 

“Yuju?”

“My ex-girlfriend,” Seokmin explains. “She's dating Jaehyun now. They're a good couple.”

“Yeah, they look good together,” Jeonghan says, pressing Seokmin for a reaction, but Seokmin doesn't dwell on the subject of his ex for long. He's too busy gushing about her boyfriend. 

“Jaehyun gave me his phone number and even told me that he liked my writing!” Seokmin says. “They just left, but the next time I see Jaehyun, I'm going to give him a hug.”

Seokmin makes a happy little sound that's close to a squeal, and he hugs Jeonghan again in his excitement. 

Jeonghan is aware of a distinct change in the way he feels when he's around Seokmin. It starts with the chemistry of his skin—even just holding hands with Seokmin has Jeonghan's body temperature climbing, a fluttering sensation crawling all over his body. He wonders if he's the only one feeling the subtle undercurrents of attraction between them, underneath their put-on displays of affection. 

Rain is falling in opaque torrents when Seokmin and Jeonghan decide to go home. There is a considerable amount of distance between the building and where Seokmin’s car is parked, causing some trepidation in Jeonghan. 

“You didn’t happen to bring an umbrella, did you?” Jeonghan asks offhandedly.

“I did!” Seokmin says.

Jeonghan brightens at Seokmin’s unexpected sense of foresight. “Really?”

“Yeah! It’s in the car though.”

“Well, that’s helpful,” Jeonghan says dryly, giving Seokmin’s arm a light-hearted punch. 

Jeonghan takes off his denim jacket and pulls it over his head as a flimsy shield from the rain.

“Mind if I share?” Seokmin asks.

“Sure.”

Seokmin squeezes in next to Jeonghan, wrapping his arms around Jeonghan’s waist for a close fit underneath his jacket. 

“Ready to go?” Jeonghan asks.

“Ready!”

From inside the building, the sound of the rain had been muted and indistinct, but the downpour is deafening once they’re in the thick of it. Jeonghan hears Seokmin saying something, but his voice is muffled by thunder. 

“What did you say?” Jeonghan shouts.

“I said I want to jump over this puddle!”

Before Jeonghan has a chance to advise Seokmin that jumping over puddles is  _ not _ a good idea in the middle of a thunderstorm, Seokmin is already making the leap. Jeonghan stumbles after him and then trips, falling into the puddle and bringing Seokmin down with him. They land with a splash that drenches every inch of their bodies. 

If they were wet already, they’re soaking now. Jeonghan gives up trying to use his jacket as a makeshift umbrella and lets the cool rain fall onto his bare skin. Seokmin is laughing, open-mouthed, half his body splayed across Jeonghan’s lap. He tosses his head back to catch rain in his mouth, which he fills his cheeks with to squirt at Jeonghan’s face.

“Get away from me,” Jeonghan says, playfully shoving Seokmin off his lap. 

They make a run for Seokmin’s car, thoroughly drenching his upholstery once they’re inside. Jeonghan shivers the entire ride back to his house. 

Seokmin pulls over to the side of the road, and Jeonghan is about to thank him for the ride when Seokmin asks, “Hey, weird question. Do you mind if I take a shower at your place? The hot water isn’t working in our apartment, and we’re not getting it fixed until tomorrow.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Jeonghan says, inwardly pleased at the chance to spend a little more time together. “Come on in, I’ll find some clothes for you to borrow while you shower.”

Seokmin hugs Jeonghan from behind for warmth as he digs for his house keys. He rests his sharp chin on Jeonghan’s shoulder, but neither of them realize how close their faces are until Jeonghan turns his head and their lips meet accidentally. 

Jeonghan’s eyes fly open in surprise, and Seokmin quickly lets go of Jeonghan’s waist and puts some distance in between them. They step inside without saying anything, pretending like nothing happened. 

Seokmin has been to Jeonghan’s place enough times that he heads straight for the bathroom without asking where it is. For a few moments, Jeonghan’s feet are glued to the doormat in his foyer, his fingertips gently resting against his lips where they touched Seokmin’s lips. And then he shakes his head and wrings out the liquid from his hair. 

As Jeonghan rifles through his drawers for clothes for Seokmin to borrow, he hears Seokmin’s resonant voice drifting down the hallway. He’s heard Seokmin whistle and hum tunes under his breath before, but it’s the first time he’s heard Seokmin shamelessly belting out song lyrics. 

For a few minutes, Jeonghan sits cross-legged outside the bathroom, discreetly listening to the clear, rich sound of Seokmin's voice. And then he hears Seokmin turn off the faucet. 

Jeonghan leaves the folded pile of clothes outside the door and quickly runs back to the kitchen, sitting down at the table to pretend like he was playing on his phone there the entire time. Seokmin emerges from the bathroom, his skin flushed from the warm shower and his hair still dripping wet. Jeonghan feels a thrumming in his veins at the sight of him. 

“Sorry for taking so long,” Seokmin says apologetically. “And thanks for the clothes. I’ll be heading out now.” 

“Take the umbrella by the door on your way out,” Jeonghan tells him. “And don’t catch a cold!”

When he reaches the door, Seokmin takes a final glance over his shoulder and waves at Jeonghan with a bright little grin. Jeonghan feels a happiness that he's too afraid to trust, and the bittersweetness of it all is almost enough to tear his heart in two. 

  
  
  
  


“I still don't know where we're going,” Jeonghan says the next weekend when Seokmin picks him up from his house on a Sunday afternoon. “You said it would be a surprise, but I’d really like to know what we’re doing.” 

Seokmin is wearing a black hoodie, a blue baseball cap turned backwards, and a grin that gives Jeonghan the distinct impression that he's up to no good. 

“You said that you like baseball, right?” Seokmin asks innocently.

“It depends,” Jeonghan says warily. “Playing it or watching it?”

“Don’t worry, we’re not doing anything too physical,” Seokmin assures him. “I got tickets to see the MLB playoffs this weekend!”

“Did you get some kind of….couple’s package?” Jeonghan asks. If he’s remembering correctly, major league baseball tickets can range from $100 to over $300 a seat. 

“No,” Seokmin says. “I was thinking we could go as, um, friends.”

“Friends,” Jeonghan echoes, and he’s wondering about how he can possibly pay Seokmin back for a $300 ticket.

As if reading Jeonghan’s mind, Seokmin says, “I bought two tickets in case Mingyu or Minghao wanted to come, but they were both too busy. Don’t worry about paying me back or anything.”

“Yuju must have been a lucky girl,” Jeonghan says suddenly.

“What makes you say that?”

“To have been with a boyfriend who likes taking people on expensive dates.”

“Only people I really like.” 

“Does that make me one of those people?” Jeonghan asks in a cloying voice. 

“You were my third choice,” Seokmin teases, and Jeonghan makes a tiny, disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. 

Jeonghan refuses to speak to Seokmin for the rest of the ride, so Seokmin happily sings along to the radio until they reach the parking garage. 

After climbing out of Seokmin’s SUV, Seokmin and Jeonghan join the sea of black and blue caps and jerseys pouring out of the garage and flowing towards the baseball stadium. Jeonghan trots ahead of Seokmin to look at the streetside booths where vendors are selling team merchandise. He finds a baseball cap identical to Seokmin’s and shells out a $20 bill for it. 

Under normal circumstances, Jeonghan would never spend that much on a hat he could get for the fraction of the price elsewhere. But he likes the idea of having something else to remember Seokmin by, and to remember the fun times they’ve had together. 

When Jeonghan looks back, Seokmin is nowhere to be seen. 

“Seokmin?” Jeonghan calls out as the crowd pushes around him. “Seokmin-ah!”

Jeonghan retraces his steps. He finds Seokmin a block back, looking lost and abandoned as he stands on his tiptoes and cranes his neck, searching the crowd for a sign of Jeonghan.

“Jeonghan!” Seokmin calls out when he catches sight of him. He squeezes through the throng of baseball fans to seize Jeonghan by the waist. “I was afraid you got lost!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jeonghan says, patting Seokmin on the back. “You could have called me if you couldn’t find me.”

“Oh, right,” Seokmin says, still looking troubled for a moment. And then the moment passes, and he holds onto Jeonghan’s hand. “I’ll make sure that I don’t lose you.”

Jeonghan is content with allowing Seokmin to lead him by the hand to where their seats are located, close enough to the field for Seokmin to catch a foul ball during the first inning. 

The threat of losing each other in the crowd is no longer present, but Seokmin still doesn’t let go of Jeonghan’s hand. He relinquishes his grip only to leap to his feet when his favorite players are up at bat, stealing bases, and hitting home runs. Seokmin is noisy and vigorous with his applause, using his entire body to show his support. Jeonghan, on the other hand, cheers lazily, clapping with only one hand against his thigh when his other hand is twined with Seokmin’s. 

After the third inning, the stadium speakers start blasting “Accidentally in Love” as the kiss cam begins scanning the audience. The cheers from the crowd crescendo when the kiss cam lands on a couple with matching baseball caps. 

Jeonghan stares at the image for a moment, uncomprehending. It takes him a second to register that he’s looking at  _ himself _ seated next to Seokmin on the giant Jumbotron screen. The pink, animated words  _ Kiss! Kiss!  _ light up on the screen next to their faces. 

“I think there must be a misunderstanding,” Jeonghan begins to say, but Seokmin is already pulling him in, giving in to the crowd’s shouts and wolf whistles urging for them to kiss. 

Their lips meet, clumsily at first, but then it turns into a kiss that feels so sweet and right that it fills Jeonghan’s chest with an unbearable kind of ache. Seokmin’s palms are cradling Jeonghan’s chin, and Jeonghan’s hands are on Seokmin’s chest, and they continue kissing even after the camera cuts away. 

And then they inch away slowly with heaving chests, deaf to the raucous cheers erupting around them as they share a moment of mutual realization that some delicate equilibrium has been tipped. They both know in that moment that their strange, fragile relationship, whatever it is, wasn’t meant to last. 

  
  
  
  


“Guys, is this really necessary?” Seokmin asks when he’s seated across the table from Mingyu and Minghao at their request. “I feel like you’re trying to stage an intervention or something.”

“We are,” Minghao says. Mingyu nods, his arms folded across his chest. “We really need to talk to you.”

“Can it wait? I just got back from the baseball game, and I’ve got homework to do,” Seokmin insists, feeling increasingly agitated by the second. 

Seokmin’s head is still reeling from the kiss he shared with Jeonghan. The awful silence and awkwardness that hung between them afterwards still weighs heavily in his stomach, and he feels the urge to read or write, anything that will clear his head. Seokmin is certain by now that he ruined something between them by impetuously kissing Jeonghan.

Mingyu opens up a picture on his phone and shows it to Seokmin, and his heart jumps involuntarily. The photo is a shot taken of Seokmin and Jeonghan when they appeared on the kiss cam. Their faces are shadowed by the visors of their matching baseball caps, but from the shape of Seokmin’s jaw and the length of Jeonghan’s hair, it’s unmistakably them.

Seokmin didn’t realize in the moment just how steamy and intimate their kiss had been. Looking at the photo now, a hot, thick feeling spreads throughout Seokmin’s body at the sight of their lips interlocked and their hands all over each other. 

“How did you get that photo?” Seokmin asks shakily as it dawns upon him why his roommates wanted to talk to him. If he was Minghao or Mingyu, he would have questions too.  

“I have my sources,” Mingyu says cryptically.

“One of Mingyu’s friends who was also at the baseball game sent it to him,” Minghao explains. “But that’s not the important thing here.”

“We’re worried about you,” Mingyu says, and Seokmin’s hands curl into fists under the table. “We didn’t ask about Jeonghan before since you didn’t seem to want to talk about him, but it’s making us worried that you might be trying to hide something.”

“I don’t know about Mingyu, but you’re one of my best friends,” Minghao says gently.

“Hey, Seokmin’s my best friend too!” Mingyu interrupts.

Ignoring Mingyu, Minghao continues, “We just wanted to let you know that there’s no need for you to feel ashamed. If you want to tell us about your relationship with Jeonghan, we won’t judge you. We’ll support you no matter what.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Seokmin grits out. “We’re not in a relationship.”

“But do you want to be?” Mingyu asks quizzically.

The question hangs there, and Seokmin can’t bring himself to answer it out loud. He loves being around Jeonghan, and he longs for the chance to return to a time before his own urges complicated everything. 

It was a simple thing they had going on. They went on “dates,” and they kissed, sometimes. 

But the more Seokmin thinks about it, the less he actually knows what it was, and suddenly it doesn’t feel simple at all. 

What Seokmin needs more than anything else right now is the chance to ruminate on his uncertainties and confused feelings. The only thing that Seokmin knows for sure is that these days, he’s thinking about Jeonghan more often than he isn’t. 

  
  
  
  


A week has passed since the baseball game, and Jeonghan is reclining in bed, talking to his younger sister on the phone. Their languid, meandering conversations always last for hours, and it’s the perfect distraction to avert his thoughts away from Seokmin. 

He doesn’t mention Seokmin to his sister of course, or anyone else for that matter. Jeonghan has always had the bad habit of keeping his troubles to himself. He just listens as she prattles on about their mother’s vegetable garden and how wild rabbits keep pillaging her sweet potato plants.

“I wish I could talk to animals,” she sighs. “So I could tell the rabbits to stop stealing from eomma’s garden. Or I would tell them that they can eat her vegetables once in awhile, but only if they’re  _ really _ hungry.”

“Or you could make a deal with them. Let them eat some of the vegetables if they sacrifice a family member every month so that eomma can make rabbit stew,” Jeonghan suggests.

“Oppa, you’re horrible!” his sister protests. 

“I’m just kidding,” he chuckles under his breath. “Hey, can you wait a second? I’m getting another call.”

Which is odd, because the only people who ever call Jeonghan instead of texting are his family members and—Jeonghan glances at the screen of his phone— _ Seokmin _ .

“It’s alright,” his sister says. “I have to do my homework anyways. I’ll talk to you later!”

“Bye-bye,” Jeonghan says. He ends his call with his sister and answers Seokmin’s. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you home?” Seokmin replies a little breathlessly.

“Yeah, why?” Jeonghan asks, fighting to keep the interest out of his tone. 

“Come outside.”

From inside his foyer, Jeonghan hears the soft intro to “Unchained Melody” playing on the other side of the door, muted and nostalgic-sounding. He opens the door, and the music is playing with full clarity, and Seokmin is singing to him with a portable boombox speaker tucked under his arm.

_ Oh, my love, my darling _

_ I’ve hungered for your touch _

_ A long, lonely time _

_ Time goes by so slowly _

_ And time can do so much _

_ Are you still mine? _

_ I need your love _

When he hears the sappy lyrics, Jeonghan looks down in embarrassment and lets out an involuntary snicker, a short churlish exhale. But Seokmin holds his gaze, singing candidly like he means every word. And then the amused grin slips away from Jeonghan’s face as a different kind of emotion takes its place. 

Jeonghan usually doesn’t cry easily, but he feels his throat closing and a tingling behind his eyes as he listens to Seokmin’s voice. It’s smooth, soulful, and tender as heartache. And right now, it’s so  _ gentle _ that it’s wrecking Jeonghan. 

The song ends and Seokmin is smiling hopefully at Jeonghan, whose heart has become a complete mess. 

“Is this some kind of publicity stunt?” Jeonghan asks thickly. “Is there a hidden camera somewhere? Are we going to win a free vacation for two?”

“No, this is me, asking you out,” Seokmin says shyly. “So how about it? Will you let me be your boyfriend? For real this time, I mean.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan agrees faintly, barely trusting his voice to stay steady. 

He closes the space between them, throwing his arms around Seokmin and burying his face in his neck. 

“Wow, that was easier than anticipated,” Seokmin marvels, patting Jeonghan’s back. “I thought that I’d have to convince you to be mine.”

“I was already yours to begin with, idiot,” Jeonghan mumbles.

  
Seokmin laughs and kisses Jeonghan’s hair, and it confirms what Jeonghan had been hoping all along—that if he gave Seokmin his heart, he would treat it tenderly.    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> much love to agnes for pushing my lazy butt through a tricky bout of writer's block. and now comes the question, did joanna write an entire fic just to use the word "jeonghanaconda" ? perhaps


	4. Chapter 4

 

Dating Jeonghan doesn’t feel too different than how Seokmin felt around him before, but there’s the added thrill of being able to kiss him whenever he wants. 

 

It’s an incomparable feeling, the happiness that rises in Seokmin when he slides his palm over Jeonghan’s warm nape, and it’s like Seokmin is touching Jeonghan for the first time. His hand pushes into Jeonghan’s hair, and he kisses him the way he’s always wanted to—unhurried and deep, without the pressure of having to put on an act for anyone.

 

Jeonghan’s eyes are shining and his skin is suffused with a warm flush when Seokmin pulls away. 

 

“That’s how our first kiss should have gone,” Seokmin says breathlessly. 

 

“Well, it’s not too late to make up for lost time,” Jeonghan reminds him.

 

The afternoons once spent studying in the library turn into blissful, unproductive hours curled up against Jeonghan in his bed and on his couch.  

 

Somehow Seokmin manages to absorb enough material to make it through the end of the semester despite having Jeonghan as a major distraction. It helps that Jeonghan keeps Seokmin in check during finals week, refusing to kiss Seokmin until he’s finished with his work and flicking his forehead every time he comes close to dozing off.

 

And then it’s mid-December, and all of Seokmin’s final papers and exams are finally out of the way. His roommates vacate the apartment to spend the holidays with their families, so Jeonghan lets Seokmin crash at his place for the break. 

 

But just as Seokmin parks along the curb of Jeonghan’s street, Jeonghan calls Seokmin to tell him that they’re going on a short road trip, and they need to leave immediately. 

 

“I just got out of my car, though!” Seokmin whines, leaning against the driver’s door.

 

“Well, get back in because we should start driving before it gets too dark,” Jeonghan says before hanging up on Seokmin. 

 

A few seconds later, Jeonghan comes out of his house with a stuffed backpack slung on one shoulder and what looks like an electric guitar case on the other shoulder. 

 

“What's in there?” Seokmin asks as he opens up the trunk for Jeonghan to stow away his belongings. 

 

“Bass guitar,” Jeonghan explains. 

 

“I didn't know you could play bass! Why haven't you ever played for me?”

 

“I'm not really that good,” Jeonghan admits. “My friend Jihoon made me learn how to play it in high school.”

 

Seokmin recognizes the name from the stories Jeonghan has told him about his friends. 

 

“Is he the one that's good at everything?” Seokmin asks as they climb inside his car. 

 

“Yes,” Jeonghan laughs. “Glad you remembered. When we were all in high school, he wanted to start a band. He only asked his friends to join because he didn't physically have enough hands to play every instrument.”

 

“So are you guys are having a reunion or something?”

 

“Pretty much. We get together every year around the holidays to catch up and make music with each other. Also, apparently we have a new member.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“His name is Junhui,” Jeonghan says as he sets up the GPS on his phone. “He just moved into the house next to Jihoon's, and Jihoon has already convinced him to play keyboard for the band. So now we've got Jihoon on lead vocals, Seungcheol on drums, Soonyoung on guitar, Junhui on keyboard, and me on bass!”

“Does that make me a groupie?” Seokmin jokes. 

 

Halfway to Jihoon's house, they make a stop for snacks and fuel at a gas station. Seokmin refills his tank while Jeonghan browses the convenience store. He returns with potato chips, Pepero, and shrimp crackers. 

 

They sit in the parking lot with bags of snacks open on the dashboard, and Seokmin suggests, “Let's play the Pepero game!”

 

He takes the end of a Pepero stick in his mouth and turns expectantly to Jeonghan, offering him the other end. Jeonghan smirks and leans over his armrest. But instead of biting the other end, Jeonghan plucks the Pepero from between Seokmin’s lips and just kisses him. 

 

Seokmin breaks away in surprise, and Jeonghan pops the biscuit stick into his mouth and says, “I win.”

Eventually, Jeonghan dozes off, only to later wake up to Seokmin noisily belting along to Whitney Houston on the radio.

 

“ _ And I, will always love youuuuuuu _ ,” Seokmin sings in an ear-splitting falsetto.

 

“I don’t want your love,” Jeonghan grumbles sleepily. 

 

“Hey, good timing! We’re almost there, help me find your friend’s place.”

 

They pull into Jihoon’s long, winding driveway where there are already several vehicles parked. 

 

“What does this guy do for a living?” Seokmin asks, in awe of the massive, colonial-style mansion they’re parked in front of. It’s almost as big as his parents’ house.

 

“Um, you probably don’t want to know,” Jeonghan answers vaguely, and they leave it at that. 

 

The front door is slightly ajar, and they hear shouts coming from inside. Jeonghan toes off his shoes and pushes the door open.

 

“Is it okay if we just go inside?” Seokmin whispers, trotting along behind Jeonghan like a puppy following its owner. 

 

“Yeah, of course. They’re expecting us.”

 

They wander through the vast interior of Jihoon’s house as the sounds of angry bickering bounce off the walls. The noise is the only sign of life in the desolate, sparsely decorated mansion. It’s ominous and a little unsettling, and Seokmin clings onto the hem of Jeonghan’s shirt for safety. 

 

“Everyone must be in the basement,” Jeonghan says, and he leads Seokmin down a staircase to a comfortably furnished room where several grown men are crowded around a chess board.

 

“We’re here!” Jeonghan announces, and the men stop arguing for a moment to greet him. “Seokmin, this is Jihoon, Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and you must be Junhui. Everyone, this is my boyfriend Seokmin.”

 

“Do we know each other?” Seungcheol says, scrutinizing Seokmin’s face.

 

Seokmin stares blankly at him for a second, and then it hits him. “I took your drawing class for a few weeks, Professor, um, I mean, Seungcheol.”

 

Seungcheol’s eyes go wide and he says, “Oh, you were the one who drew anime characters during the life modeling class, weren’t you?”

 

“That was me,” Seokmin admits sheepishly, and Jeonghan grins fondly at him.

 

They all shake hands with Seokmin, and another guy, younger than the rest, meanders into the room.

 

“Another new face!” Jeonghan observes. “And who are you?”

 

“This is my nephew, Hansol!” Seungcheol says, slinging his arm around Hansol’s shoulders. He looks exactly how Seokmin imagines a proud uncle would look. 

 

“Sup,” Hansol says, shrugging away from Seungcheol’s hold. 

 

“Are you guys playing chess?” Jeonghan asks as he sits down next to Jihoon.

 

“Extreme chess,” Jihoon corrects. “I’m playing against Soonyoung.”

 

Seokmin looks curiously at the board, and Jeonghan explains, “We came up with this game in high school. It’s basically chess, but you can make up whatever rules you want.”

 

“All of my pawns have had a religious awakening, so they’re all bishops now,” Soonyoung says, and he moves a pawn diagonally to knock out one of Jihoon’s real bishops. 

 

Jihoon frowns and moves his own black pawn all the way across the board, setting it next to Soonyoung’s white knight. “I’ve sent a spy to infiltrate your ranks.”

 

Soonyoung picks up the white pawn and balances it on the knight’s head. “My knight has absorbed your pawn, and now it’s a unicorn!”

 

Jihoon has a dangerous look in his eyes, and Jeonghan leans in to whisper, “If you’re ever up against Jihoon, it’s better just to let him win.”

 

“Noted,” Seokmin whispers back. 

 

The game ends with Jihoon irately flipping the chessboard over after a particularly annoying move on Soonyoung’s part. Jihoon announces flatly that an earthquake has killed both kingdoms, and that’s the end of extreme chess. 

 

Eventually, Jihoon retrieves bottles of alcohol and shot glasses from the bar in his basement, and then he brings out cartons of chocolate milk for Seokmin and Hansol who are under twenty-one and water for Soonyoung, who is just very, very lightweight. 

 

After a few rounds of shots, Jeonghan suggests that they play truth or dare.

 

“Let’s play slap or kiss instead,” Soonyoung says. “You guys are no fun at coming up with dares. Last time, Seungcheol just dared me to drive him home.”

 

“Hansol is too young to play that kind of game,” Seungcheol protests. “He’s only in high school.”

 

“Then Hansol can decide who gets slapped and who gets kissed,” Jeonghan says.

 

“So how exactly does this game work?” Junhui asks once they’re all sitting in a circle. 

 

Jihoon explains, “It’s like spin the bottle, but you either have to slap or kiss the person you land on. Hansol decides which one you do. Ready to play, Hansol?”

 

He gives Jihoon a thumbs up, and Jihoon spins the empty glass beer bottle. The mouth of the bottle stops in front of Junhui. Hansol covers his mouth and whispers something into Jihoon’s ear. 

 

Jihoon nods and leans across the circle to give Junhui a chaste peck on the lips. 

 

“Do you understand the game now?” he asks seriously, and Junhui nods, biting his lips to keep a grin off his face.

 

And then it’s Junhui’s turn to give the bottle a spin. This time it lands on Soonyoung, who closes his eyes in anticipation, unsure of whether he’ll be kissed or slapped. 

 

Junhui climbs into Soonyoung’s lap and kisses him sensually with tongue and fingers curling into Soonyoung’s hair until Seungcheol says, “That’s enough!”

 

They both pull away from each other, smirking.

 

Soonyoung spins the bottle, and it lands on Jihoon. A devious grin appears on his face when he hears what Hansol whispers in his ear. Jihoon closes his eyes too, but they fly open in shock when Soonyoung slaps him sharply across the cheek, so hard that Jihoon's head jerks to the side. 

 

“You fucking  _ bitch slapped _ me!” Jihoon exclaims in outrage, rubbing the bright red mark on his face. 

 

“That’s just part of the game,” Soonyoung says smugly. 

 

Jihoon spins the bottle angrily, glaring at Soonyoung as if it will make the bottle land on him, but he misses his chance for retribution when it stops spinning in front of Seungcheol instead.

 

Seungcheol is clearly apprehensive of what a pissed off Jihoon will do to him, but Hansol seems to take mercy on his uncle—Jihoon kisses Seungcheol on the cheek.

 

And then it's Seungcheol’s turn. His spin lands on Seokmin, and Jeonghan tenses, his eyes narrowing as he watches Hansol whisper into Seungcheol’s ear. Seokmin keeps his eyes open, his heart fluttering with nerves as Seungcheol approaches. It feels so surreal that he’s about to be either slapped or kissed by his former professor. 

 

Seungcheol’s lips are soft and polite against Seokmin's, and when the brief kiss is over, Seokmin glances over at Jeonghan, whose frown has deepened. 

 

There are murmurs of interest when Seokmin spins the bottle, and it lands on Jeonghan. Hansol whispers into Seokmin's ear, “ _ Slap him _ .”

 

Jeonghan keeps his gaze on Seokmin steady and cool as Seokmin moves closer to him. But his eyes widen involuntarily when Seokmin draws his hand back to slap him. 

 

He flinches, expecting a sharp impact, but Seokmin just taps Jeonghan lightly on the cheek. Immediately afterwards, Seokmin leans in to kiss him on the same spot. He ignores the disappointed grumbles from those who clearly wanted to see Jeonghan get slapped.

 

Jeonghan spins the bottle, and it lands on Seungcheol. He lets out a cackle of delight. Without waiting for instruction from Hansol, Jeonghan crawls over to where Seungcheol is sitting and whips his hand across Seungcheol’s cheek with all his strength. Jeonghan's expression is placid and satisfied, but Seungcheol's eyes are filled with shock and betrayal. 

 

“What was that for?” Seungcheol demands.

 

“For kissing my boyfriend. Now we’re even,” Jeonghan says contentedly. 

 

For the sake of everyone’s safety, they decide to stop playing kiss or slap.

 

As Seungcheol gets more and more drunk, he becomes increasingly confident in his motor skills for some reason. He challenges Hansol to foosball, and is convinced that he won despite only scoring on himself. Later, Seungcheol challenges Seokmin to building towers out of shot glasses stacked on top of each other. Seokmin easily stacks a tower of six, seven, eight shot glasses and counting, but Seungcheol nearly bursts into tears when his stack of three shot glasses topples over. 

 

“I'm going to take my uncle to his room now,” Hansol decides wisely, pulling a weepy Seungcheol to his feet. 

 

One by one, the party disperses as everyone else retires to their guest rooms upstairs. 

 

When they're the last two left, Seokmin asks, “Ready for bed now, Jeonghan?”

 

“Yeah. But I’m gonna need some help getting up,” Jeonghan admits faintly. 

 

Jeonghan had matched Seungcheol shot for shot without showing any outward sign of inebriation. His expression is still calm and unyielding, only his cheeks are a little more flushed than usual. But it's quickly apparent to Seokmin how drunk Jeonghan is when he just about collapses in Seokmin's arms, slinging his warm arms around Seokmin’s neck. 

 

Since Jihoon lives alone, almost all of the rooms in his mansion are guest bedrooms. Seokmin is breathless with the weight of Jeonghan's body as he carries him to an open bedroom. He reaches the bed just before his arms tremble and give out, spilling Jeonghan onto the mattress a little too roughly. But Jeonghan doesn't seem to mind. 

 

“Fuck,” Seokmin says. “Sorry, are you okay?”

 

“Fuck?” Jeonghan repeats drowsily with a lazy grin. “I love to fuck. Let's fuck.”

 

Jeonghan tries to sit up and tug at Seokmin’s shirt, but Seokmin firmly pushes him away by the shoulders.  

 

“Okay, it is  _ really _ time for you to go to sleep!” Seokmin says, his voice rising to a nervous squeak. 

 

Jeonghan dozes off quickly, and Seokmin crawls into the bed eventually, keeping a safe, polite distance between them on the king-sized mattress.

  
  
  
  


Waking up next to Jeonghan and hearing his faint breathing overwhelms Seokmin with joy. Jeonghan’s long black hair is spilling into his face, and Seokmin reaches out to tuck the silky strands behind Jeonghan’s ear.

 

Jeonghan blinks awake and stares back at Seokmin with a distant, lethargic look in his eyes.

 

“I’m dying,” Jeonghan croaks.

 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Seokmin murmurs. “Just go back to sleep.”

 

Jeonghan closes his eyes again, and Seokmin kisses him on the forehead before rising from the bed.

 

Jihoon is sipping coffee in the kitchen when Seokmin wanders downstairs to find something to eat. They exchange polite greetings, and Seokmin notices that Jihoon’s appearance is slightly haggard, but he’s far more functional than Jeonghan is this morning. 

 

“What’s the plan for today?” Seokmin asks.

 

“We’ll just take it easy this morning, since some of us are hungover,” Jihoon says. “Soonyoung already took Hansol out to drive around. I don't care what you and Jeonghan do today but in the evening the band’s gonna have practice. You can watch if you want.”

 

“Oh, okay! Sounds good.”

 

Seokmin nibbles at his toast while Jihoon continues to drink his coffee. And then Seokmin asks shyly, “By the way, I hope you don’t mind if I ask, what do you do for a living?”

 

“Jeonghan never told you? I produce and direct adult videos.”

 

Seokmin fights to keep his expression natural. “Oh, I see,” he says, like Jihoon is telling him that he’s a teacher or a banker.

 

“Jeonghan is one of my most popular actors,” Jihoon adds. 

 

Jihoon’s casual statement sends a ripple of renewed shock through Seokmin’s body. Seokmin had assumed as much about Jeonghan’s profession, but having his suspicions confirmed is something else entirely. 

 

“We started filming amateur scenes after graduating high school,” Jihoon continues. It blows Seokmin’s mind that he can speak so frankly on the subject. “And now Jeonghan is one of the most recognizable actors in his genre. I’m guessing that he’s shown you some of his favorite scenes.”

 

“Um, actually, no,” Seokmin says.

 

Jihoon’s eyebrows arch in surprise. “Really? All Jeonghan does is send his friends clips of himself. Although I guess you must be different.”

 

Seokmin doesn’t mention that they’ve never even talked about it before. In fact, he’s sure that Jeonghan isn’t even aware that Seokmin knows about his porn career.

 

“Did Jeonghan’s previous, um, partners know about what he does for a living?” Seokmin asks, not knowing whether he’d prefer the answer to be yes or no.

 

“I’ve known Jeonghan for a long time,” Jihoon says carefully, “and I’ve never seen him show so much interest in just one person. We were all surprised when he introduced you as his boyfriend, since Jeonghan has never called any of his boy toys that before.”

 

“What’s this about my boy toys?” 

 

Jihoon and Seokmin both turn towards the sound of Jeonghan’s voice, and they find him leaning against the door frame. Jeonghan’s face is still soft with sleep, his eyes half-lidded and his voice low and raspy.

 

“We were talking about how you’re incapable of being in love,” Jihoon says matter-of-factly.

 

“How could you say such a thing?” Jeonghan asks in a lazy drawl. “I have so much love in my heart. I love  _ you _ , I love Seungcheol, I love Soonyoung, I love Junhui and Hansol‒”

 

“Loving someone is different from being in love,” Jihoon points out. “And you just met Junhui and Hansol.”

 

“Do I hear Jihoon talking about love?” Seungcheol says, wandering into the kitchen. “That’s pretty rich, considering how you’ve never even had a girlfriend. All of the songs you write are about puppy love.”

 

“I’m gonna kick you out of the band one of these days,” Jihoon says cheerfully.

 

“You know, that might actually be an improvement to the band. I think that Jihoon is better at playing drums than Seungcheol is,” Jeonghan says. “Sorry, Seungcheol. How’s your hangover?”

 

“Terrible,” Seungcheol says good-naturedly. “Where did my nephew go?”

 

Jihoon tells Seungcheol that they went out already, and Seungcheol decides to go back to bed. Jeonghan hints that he wants to go back to bed too, but he gives in to Seokmin’s wheedling and agrees to visit the local art museum with him. 

 

During his first couple of years in college, Seokmin had taken art classes solely for the purpose of being able to impress people on dates. To Seokmin’s dismay, Jeonghan seems less interested in the paintings hanging on the walls and more interested in the leather sofas installed in each room. 

 

Still, Seokmin gamely talks about the pieces that he recognizes, explaining the artist’s influences and background and the historical context of the artwork. Jeonghan watches him with lazy admiration, making impressed noises here and there for the sake of Seokmin’s ego. 

 

Jeonghan holds onto Seokmin’s hand as they traverse the wood-panelled corridors of the museum, idly swinging their clasped hands between their bodies. They reach a corner of the museum without any other visitors and bodyguards, and Jeonghan has the chance to do what he’s wanted to do all day. Grinning rakishly, Jeonghan backs Seokmin into an empty wall and presses their bodies together. 

 

“You deserve to be pinned against a wall,” Jeonghan whispers, his lips grazing the shell of Seokmin’s ear, “because you’re a masterpiece.”

 

“H-hey, no touching the art,” Seokmin stutters, his voice pitching higher as he feels a startling climb in temperature in the room. 

 

Jeonghan smiles crookedly and pulls away, leaving Seokmin flustered and speechless. 

 

To Jeonghan’s delight, Jihoon’s house is empty when they return. There’s a note on the kitchen table telling them that everyone else went out for lunch, but they were welcome to help themselves to whatever’s in the fridge. 

 

“I don’t think I’m hungry yet,” Seokmin admits, his stomach full of butterflies at the realization that he and Jeonghan have the entire house to themselves.

 

“Me neither,” Jeonghan says, and he’s watching Seokmin with an unwavering expression that Seokmin can’t quite read.

 

“So, um, what do you want to do?” Seokmin asks, feeling absurdly nervous. 

 

“I want to kiss you,” Jeonghan says steadily. 

 

“Oh, okay, cool, I’m cool with that‒”

 

“A little less talking, please.”

 

And then Jeonghan is kissing him, deep heated kisses with barely repressed desire, and they only just make it to their bedroom before Jeonghan is slipping his hands up Seokmin’s shirt and digging his nails into his skin. 

 

“Wait!” Seokmin gasps as he stumbles backwards onto their mattress. “I wanted to tell you something.”

 

“Oh?” Jeonghan says, his fingers twitching impatiently. 

 

“I….I’ve seen your porn videos,” Seokmin confesses. The guilt of keeping it a secret from Jeonghan has been weighing on his mind for months now. He’s afraid that it’ll make things irreparably weird between them, but he can’t hold it in anymore.

 

Jeonghan’s eyebrow quirks in amusement, and he just says, “So you know what I like then.”

 

Seokmin’s stomach flips, and Jeonghan unfastens the buttons of Seokmin’s shirt and then his own, and then their bodies are pressing against each other, bare skin sliding against bare skin. They had touched before, and kissed, but it was never anything like this. There’s nothing left between them now, both literally and figuratively.  

 

Remembering what he had seen from the videos, Seokmin pushes Jeonghan onto his back and positions himself between his legs. Jeonghan watches Seokmin as he presses his plush lips to Jeonghan’s knuckles, and then his palm, planting kisses up the soft white underside of his arm. And then Seokmin trails kisses along the slope of Jeonghan’s jaw and takes the liberty of licking the sensitive skin just behind his ear, making him squawk and twitch. 

 

“Ticklish?” Seokmin murmurs, his breath warm against Jeonghan’s neck.

 

“No,” Jeonghan giggles, and the sound of his breathless laughter makes Seokmin's heart swell with happiness. 

 

“If you say so.”

 

Seokmin tries to kiss Jeonghan’s throat, but Jeonghan squirms, tucking his chin against his shoulder to deny Seokmin access to his suddenly oversensitive skin. 

 

Any nerves and uncertainty about being intimate with Jeonghan melt away, and not for one moment does Seokmin wonder what to do with his mouth or his hands. He kisses Jeonghan until it’s obvious to both of them just how badly they both want it, and then Seokmin starts unfastening the buttons and zippers of their pants, breaking their kiss only to remove the last layers of clothing separating them. 

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jeonghan asks one more time after he’s fetched the condom and lubricant hidden in his backpack.

 

Seokmin’s thighs are trembling from nerves and anticipation but he answers evenly, “Yes.”

 

“It’ll be easier if you’re on your stomach,” Jeonghan says, and he slowly, patiently begins preparing Seokmin with gentle, probing touches.

 

Seokmin’s body flashes hot all over at the initial stretch, but then he relaxes enough for Jeonghan to fit another finger inside of him, and then another.

 

And then Jeonghan is kissing his neck as he makes the slow press forward into Seokmin's body. Seokmin makes a strangled sound, and Jeonghan pauses to smooth Seokmin’s bangs away from his forehead. 

 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re doing so well,” Jeonghan says tenderly. “Deep breathing—there we go, good boy.”

 

Jeonghan holds onto Seokmin by the hips, tracing the elegant juts of sharp hipbone with his fingertips. He’s vulnerable, yet sturdy all at once and Jeonghan wants to treat Seokmin gently as much as he wants to turn him into a wreck. Jeonghan takes his time with long, unhurried thrusts, feeling Seokmin squeeze, deliciously tight and hot around him.

 

“Wait, stop,” Seokmin bites out, and Jeonghan ceases immediately, watching Seokmin with worry. 

 

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asks.

 

“Yes, I just—I want to see your face.”

 

Holding onto Jeonghan’s shoulders, Seokmin climbs into his lap, crossing his ankles around Jeonghan’s back. It’s a position he remembers seeing in one of Jeonghan’s videos, but the camera didn’t come close to capturing just how intimate and  _ hot _ it would be, riding Jeonghan’s lap with their foreheads pressed together. 

Jeonghan’s hands wander from Seokmin’s waist to his thighs, feeling every warm curve of Seokmin’s body under his palm. And then his hands are sliding across Seokmin’s broad back, over the elegant curves of his shoulder blades, finally settling on his smooth, soft nape. Jeonghan closes his eyes and listens to the exquisite sound of Seokmin’s breathing. It comes evenly at first, and then later in hot, harsh puffs of air against Jeonghan’s cheek as Seokmin clamps his thighs tightly around Jeonghan’s body, moving his hips with greater urgency than before. 

 

For a moment Seokmin’s eyes are dark and burning with need, and the lust in his expression sends a thrill slithering into Jeonghan’s stomach. Seokmin squeezes his eyes shut as he sucks greedily at Jeonghan’s lips, rutting impatiently against him. 

 

Seokmin makes a noise rough and low in his throat as a tremor rolls up his body, and then he goes limp in Jeonghan’s arms, his chest heaving with shuddering breaths. 

 

Jeonghan feels the aftershocks of Seokmin’s climax pulsing around him, and suddenly his stamina is stretching thin. Jeonghan’s fingernails bite into Seokmin’s firm thighs, and he sinks his teeth into Seokmin’s shoulder as the heat curling tightly in his gut suddenly unfurls, and the breath shudders out of him as a sweet ache spreads through his entire body. 

 

They fall onto the mattress side-by-side, and Jeonghan uses his last faculty for thought to curl their fingers together and whisper, “I love you.”

 

Jeonghan wakes up an hour or so later to the sound of Seokmin mumbling something about giraffes in his sleep. 

 

“It’s so cruel,” Seokmin murmurs, his words slurred and indistinct.

 

“What is, Seokmin?” Jeonghan asks sleepily.

 

“Giraffes can’t cough,” Seokmin says, and his eyes are still closed. “But their necks are so long. It’s such a cruel irony.”

 

Jeonghan covers a laugh behind his hand and kisses Seokmin on the forehead.

 

“I think you’ve been watching too many nature documentaries,” Jeonghan says, but Seokmin doesn’t respond because he’s fast asleep again. 

  
Jeonghan props himself onto an elbow and watches Seokmin fondly, counting his eyelashes and committing to memory the constellation of moles scattered across Seokmin’s skin. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this fic, whether you've stuck with it through each chapter or if you've read it all in one go! Thank you especially to those of you who have been leaving feedback and encouragement from update to update, and to Agnes who has put up with me whining about how this slow burn has been burning me slowly to death


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